Secrets, Lies, Death and Disguise
by ToxxicWishes71
Summary: It starts with a bad day. Then, it gets worse. He feels like no one is listening, like no one cares. He feels like the weak human. But, that didn't mean he wanted to be anything but human. He didn't want this. But, maybe it's not such a bad thing? He may not be a werewolf, but he can probably get used to this. Poss. Stydia. New pack? Theres more than just werewolves! Vamp-ishStiles
1. Bad Day

If you want to skip past my rant, the warnings, possible pairings and the short summary, just go down!

 **A/N: I don't feel like there is enough vampire!Stiles out there. I mean, sure, there is some pretty good ones, but I'm getting annoyed with the same constant vampire shit. See, when I picture vampires, I do NOT picture them burning in the sun, not able to enter the house unless given permission, being pale, turning to ashes, and other shit that I just find oddly annoying. I also hate the fact that people think that wolves and vampires don't get along, and other stuff. So, what does that mean? That means this story is going to be a tad different. But, maybe not that much.**

 **Actually, there's a lot more supernaturals in this fic than just werewolves, werecoyotes and vampires. There's probably going to be a LOT others mentioned, like werefox, reaper, necromancer, siren, dream-walker, drainer, angel, demon, nephilim, seers, other were-creatures, and who knows what else.**

 **POSSIBLE PAIRINGS: So, I actually like parrish/lydia, but don't get me wrong. I also like lydia/stiles. I just can't pick! So, this fic might have some romance in it as well (Unsure, im not the lovey dovey type all the time), but there also might be: hayden/liam, melissa/john (because who doesn't like them together?), scott/kira, malia/stiles. Also, a lot of friendship going on. I'm sorry for all those Sterek fans, but I do NOT like the whole derek/stiles thing, well, at least not when it comes to love. When its friendship, i totally dig that. (okay, I'm going to shut up now)**

 **WARNINGS: Just, be warned. I'll try to post warnings for each chapters, but be warned of cursing (and lots of it), and sexual content.**

 **May have lots of mentions of Stiles ADHD and panic attacks. I think they make him so...unique. And funny, and adorable. :) ADHD Stiles is just funny.**

 **Short Summary: Stiles gets turned, but not into anything anyone ever expects. And to think the pack probably thought he was the weak link, Stiles can definitely say he is not anymore.**

0o0o0o

Chapter 1: Hourglass of badluck

Stiles was having a terrible day. Nevermind the fact that Theo was...well, being himself, and that he continued to try to find ways to overrule Scott's pack. No, it wasn't just that which made Stiles day bad, but everything in between. His bad luck started when he woke up late. He only had ten minutes to get ready. He had been shuffling around his room, trying to find something clean to wear as he groaned in annoyance. Malia had spent the night, and of corse, she was no where in sight. She didn't even wake him up. Nevermind that, his alarm clock was ripped from the wall and was definitely broken! Stiles barely was able to brush his teeth, and didn't even get breakfast or take his Adderall as he rushed out the door and into his jeep. He had nearly ran every single red light on his way to school, and yet, he was _still_ late to first period.  
Back at his locker, Stiles jumped back as his locker door slammed on his finger. He took the time holding the red and swelling finger - on the hand he rights with - as he let out nearly every curse word he could think of. Malia just looked at him in shock and annoyance. He groaned before she opened her mouth. "Why were you late?" She asked, and this time, he couldn't help but roll his eyes as he shifted his backpack on his shoulder - which for some reason was hurting from the way he slept last night. Apparently, Malia was a bed hogger.  
"Oh, probably because _someone_ broke my alarm clock and left without waking me up." Stiles didn't mean to snap, but he couldn't help himself. How could she just leave like that? She knew he had school. Hell, she knew because she always goes to school _with_ him. He used to take her to school for god's sake, until she finally got her license.

"It wouldn't shut up. I kept turning the off button and -" She shook her head, getting to the point, "You weren't really waking up. I figured it was just too early for you."

Stiles was more than annoyed now. He knew he shouldn't be so damn pissed off, but something about getting to school late, forgetting to take his Adderall, having a bad shoulder, and now a possibly broken finger - thanks so much, Malia - kind of made him cranky.

"That's called a _snooze_ button." Malia just looked so confused, and Stiles just mummbled 'damn coyotes' under his breath, knowing fully well that Malia could hear him _and_ possibly kill him if she wanted to. She didn't look that hurt though. In fact, she just bit her lip and looked at him with those damn cute yet emotionless eyes and said, "Well, I'm going to get to class, don't wanna be late." She ran off, and he made his way to his own class. Of corse, his locker just happened to be right next to Malia's second period, so she wasn't late. But _him_ of corse, was running long after the bell had rung.

The rest of the day hasn't been very peachy to Stiles either. To his luck, he forgot money for lunch. So, not only did he skip breakfast, but he also skipped lunch on the day he knows lacrosse practice runs miles. Great, just great. Not taking his Adderall made him hungry, and not fullfilling his hunger made him nausous. He had ran to the bathroom - knocking a few people over- without anyone noticing. Of corse, Liam was starring down Hayden as he ignored Mason, and Scott was giving googly eyes to Kira. Lydia - well, who knew what the hell she was doing. It seemed like her green eyes had wandered off, starring at some guy across the cafeteria.

Stiles had spent the rest of his lunch period in the bathroom puking out all the stomach acid his body could hold. The bile had scratched his voice raw, and he even saw tiny streams of blood from puking so much. He still had a small amount of blood on his shirt when he went to his next class. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. That is, when Mr. Barkley had yelled at him to meet him after school for detention. Stiles really didn't mean to not pay attention. It's just, one minute he was taking notes on polynomials, and the next thing he knew he was starring at Mr. Barkley wondering what he looked like with different kinds of mustaches.

Seriously, he wished he had took his Adderall.

He was shoving his text books in a clumsy manner when Scott came up to him, screwing his face up. "Damn, you stink."

"You know Scott, usually people start off with a 'hello'. I don't understand why supernaturals have such a hard time with that." Stiles mumbled the last part, knowing Scott could hear him. He cursed as the text book added pressure on his -surely broken- finger. Scott just laughed it off, but in his 'this-is-awkward-because-I-can-tell-you-are-in-a-pissy-mood' kind of laugh. Stiles, however, didn't have time for it. He slammed his locker door shut and started heading towards detention without saying a word to Scott.

"Where are you going? Practice is this way?" Scott questioned, pointing to where the rest of the team were probably already at.

"Well," Stiles growled, "detention is this way. Say hi to coach for me."

Seriously, he really wasn't trying to be so rude, but it wasn't like anyone cared. Scott was too busy talking and laughing with Kira, ignoring Stile's every word. Actually, it was kind of the norm for them now. Even with Allison. Heck, _especially_ with Allison. Scott may have gotten slightly better at this whole 'dating-but-still-being-a-good-friend' thing, but he wouldn't have earned an A according to Stiles. Hell, Kira was just as bad as him. She was too focused on Scott that she barely even paid attention to her own damn parents. And Liam, well, he reminded him a lot of Scott. Mason would be trying to tell him - heck, _warn_ him - of something, but Liam would just shut him out as he watched Hayden's bouncy wavy hair as she sat with Theo and the rest of their stupid evil pack. _Sometimes,_ Stiles thinks, _us humans are the only fucking logical thing around here._ Hell, Lydia hasn't even been around much anymore. She only has about one or two classes, and she doesn't even have lunch with them anymore. In fact, she spends her lunch - and breakfast - with Parrish, because god damnit they must of been perfect for each other. Lydia warned death was near, and Parrish made the bodies disappear. They were inseparable.

Stiles didn't hear Scott say a word. In fact, he was too zoned out into his thoughts to even notice if he did. He glanced behind him, only to see Scott was already gone. He actually felt a sigh of relief escape his lips before he ran into something. _Hard._

Stiles felt himself fall backwards, landing hard on his lower back, and even hitting his head on the ground. He looked up, bright lights and fog clouding his vision as he tried to stand himself up. He was suprised to see three football players starring down at him. Brett, the one closest to him, looked _extremely_ pissed off. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was growling under his breath. Maybe not a werewolf growl, but a growl nonetheless.

"Usually people throw me on the ground _after_ I meet them." Stiles blurted out, knowing fully well that sarcasm was definitely not going to help him. He couldn't help himself. His mouth would move but his mind would say _fucking stop it, Stiles._

The football player just gave another growl, then suddenly pulled at the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against the lockers hard. Stiles had to admit, it wasn't the first time he's been thrown into walls or lockers. Usually, it wasn't a football player. In fact, usually it was werewolves that _knew_ he's just a human and not someone that can _goddamn heal fast._

"You owe me, Stillinski-" He growled, and Stiles could imagine his eyes turning yellow or red. Maybe even steam coming out of his mouth and ears.

"I don't remember trying to buy anything from you-" _Cause everyone knows you're a drug dealer._

Brett didn't respond. Instead, he just lifted Stiles off the ground with his shirt.

 _Damnit, this is my favorite shirt._

"Remember when you and your small bladder ran into my girlfriend?" Brett spoke with a dangerous voice. Stiles knew he wasn't going to get away with this one. "She twisted her ankle. She was supposed to be going to a beauty pagent _which_ would have earned her a full-ride scholarship."

"First of all," Stiles started. He tried to tell himself to be quiet, but the words just kept slipping out. "I was rushing to the bathroom to _puke._ So, be thankful I didn't do it on her instead. And second, who even said she was going to win?"

Now, Stiles knew well that he wasn't going to get out of this one. Immediately, Brett threw Stiles to the ground. He felt pain erupt in his back, but before he could do anything, Brett and his two football buddies grabbed a hold of him and shoved him into the boy's bathroom.

They threw him on the ground once again. Stiles couldn't even begin to stand up as they began kicking the shit out of him. He felt pain all over his body, especially in his back, face and stomach.

It felt like hours later until they stopped, leaving Stiles on the floor, bleeding and breathing heavily. He could only wish that Scott could hear him from the locker room and come running. But he doubted it. The guy never paid attention to him anymore, so hearing his fast heartbeat from five rooms down probably wouldn't be heard.

Stiles just groaned in defeat, letting the darkness devour him.

0o0o0o

Stiles woke up, immediately remembering Brett and the other two. He had started getting up, but immediately began puking. A lot more blood was in his vomit now, and he could only hope it was nothing too serious. He wasn't in the mood to tell anyone what had happened - especially Melissa. He just wanted to go home and sleep without anyone questioning him.

He pulled himself up, and held onto the sink with white knuckles as he starred himself in the mirror. One eye was already dark red and blue and swollen shut. There were multiple cuts on his face, but perhaps the most obvious, was the large blood stain on his _favorite_ shirt. He lifted the shirt to see the damage. The cuts were small, but there was too many to count. He had lost more blood than he thought, but nothing life threatening.

He signed as he let his shirt fall again, feeling the fabric once again cling to his bloody, wet skin. He felt another wave of nausea hit him, but only shortly before dizziness overwhelmed him. His stomach and lower back felt as if they were exploding in pain. The only way he could explain it, was like knives digging into his skin. He was shocked no one else was in the bathroom, because it felt so _real._

He was breathing hard, trying to deal with the pain. Beeds of sweet dotted across his forehead, and once he thought he was going to be fine, another sharp stabbing pain erupted in his abdomen, and this time he fell to the floor.

He couldn't breathe. He felt his heart race each time he struggled to get air. He hasn't had a panic attack in a long time, and hell, the last three times, there was always _someone_ there. This time, he was alone and bleeding and in _pain._ He desperately wanted to believe that Brett and the guys didn't do that much damage to him, but the level of pain he was feeling made him doubt. He could see the purple and blue bruises on his skin, which only made him panic more as he wondered if he was suffering from internal bleeding. He hoped not, and instead tried to focus on breathing.

It took maybe fifteen minutes for him to calm down again. He wasn't sure, though, sense each minute felt like an hour, and each hour made him worry that someone would realize he's gone, and that he would soon have to explain.

He didn't want to explain. He was tired. He was tired of being the weak human. For being the only - minus Mason, but he technically isn't in the pack yet - human in Scott's pack. He was tired of everything shoving him around. He couldn't heal like they did, couldn't they just treat him a little better?

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Stiles pulled himself out of his thoughts and into reality as he stood to his feet. His body was not feeling numb, and Stiles hoped it was a good thing.

He dug his phone out of his pocket, knowing that Mr. Barkley was going to be extremely pissed if he was late to detention.

Turned out, he wasn't just late. He missed the whole damn thing. Hell, he's been in the boy's bathroom longer than lacrosse has practice. It was already almost 7:30 pm, and he was sure it was already dark outside. Hell, the fact that a full moon was tonight didn't help Stiles' anxiety.

Frustrated, Stiles began walking to the parking lot. He couldn't help but realize no one called. Or texted. Or was worried. No one even know that he wasn't home or was in this mess. Which, was good for Stiles, in a way, because he really didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want them looking at him as the weak link. Not anymore. He was tired of it.

Stiles didn't think his day could get anymore as he got closer to his jeep, realizing that all four tires were slashed, and the side had one long white scratch. On the hood of his jeep was carved a big 'Fuck you.'. This only made Stiles growl more.

For a moment, Stiles had thought about calling Scott. He realized two things. One, Scott was going to tell him he needed to learn how to fight, which would only make him feel even more crappy than before. Two, Scott probably wouldn't pick up his call, because chances are he was with Kira. Hell, Scott would have probably purposly ignore his call, thinking it was just him fucking around with something that wasn't important.

He thought about calling his dad, but knew that he would talk him into filing a report, then yelling at the school for not paying more attention to the students after school. Plus, he was a cop for god's sake. Brett would hate him even more, and the _entire_ football team would probably bash his head in.

Stiles winced as a headache started to come on. Starring at his phone once more, he groaned as he watched the phone suddenly turn off.

 _Great._ Stiles thought, _Now my phone is dead._

Stiles was more than done now. He was beaten to a pulp in the guy's locker room by three football players. His jeep was slashed and carved into, _and_ it was the night of a full moon.

He only had one option. He would have to walk home. Sure, he could take the shortcut through the woods, but it was a _full freaking moon._ Totally not a good idea. Plus, Scott and the pack were probably running around chasing each other's tails like they always do on pack nights, and would probably smell his blood a mile away.

Speaking of pack nights. Stiles couldn't help but notice that they didn't even call to check to see why he was late. Was he even part of the pack anymore? He used to always run with the wolves. Hell, he never minded watching them act like idiots as they shifted into their full-wolf form and played fetch. Okay, maybe they never played fetch, but what they actually did was probably pretty similar. Still, what changed? Did they finally get annoyed of having a human in the pack? Was he no longer even part of the pack?

He wondered if Mason was there. Or Lydia. Both don't shift, but he had a feeling they were both there, watching and laughing.

Stiles felt his heart sink. He threw his arms into his pockets, shiving in the cold. The wet blood on his clothes didn't help, either. He ended up walking along side the road, knowing that it was going to take a lot longer to get home this way.

A part of him wished that someone would stop and recognize him, then ask to bring him home. But, he didn't want to talk about it. In fact, he was still thinking about what he could use as an excuse when people ask about it tomorrow. Well, _if_ the pack even notices it. or him.

As if they care.

He heard rustling in the leaves, then a stick snap in half. Stiles spun around, seeing nothing. He hoped no one was there. He also hoped if there was anyone, it wasn't Scott or anyone else. He didn't want them to see him like this.

Stiles turned back around and started walking. He heard another stick break. Then another.

Seriously, it almost sounded like whoever was doing this was trying to scare him on purpose.

"Fuck you, man." Stiles mumbled under his breath. If it was who he thought it was, they would have heard him.

There was no sound. No more sticks breaking, or rustling of the leaves, or even a voice saying, 'Aw darn, you caught me.'. Nope. Stiles had finally thought this little game was over as he saw the headlights of a car heading his way. He began to raise his hands to wave, but something grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into the darkened woods.

His back met the wet, dirty ground. He groaned in pain and looked up. He could see a dark figure above him, placing it's hand over his mouth as it whispered, "Shh..." The figure looked at the road, watching as the car zoomed past. The headlights had gave him enough time to see whoever it was attacking him was a white man. He wasn't big, so he was sure it wasn't Brett or the other two football players. He only hoped they didn't come around trying to get another throw at him. He had no energy. His body was too weak from all the hittings and the lack of food, and the fact that he had to walk all the way home.

Stiles wasn't sure why, but he didn't feel scared. That is, until he saw a shiney blade press against his neck. His eyes widened as the cold metal touched his skin, brushing down his neck and two his arm. The man was now only holding his arm. Stiles tried to get up quickly, but the man pushed him down again. He could feel the blade rip his skin on his arm, and suddenly he felt the warm breath of the man as he drank his blood from the new wound.

He wondered why he was doing this. He wondered why it felt like he coudn't move. It was as if he was paralyzed, just letting the man _drink_ his fucking blood. Was he a vampire? No, that couldn't be true. Werewolves? Yes. Vampires? God no.

The man had sat up. After what seemed like a long moment of silence, he spoke softly. "I thought you were just a useless human. Didn't know you knew about the supernatural world.." He laughed quietly then continued, "And I wouldn't really call myself a vampire."

Wait, did he just read his mind? Stiles eye's were wide as ever. The man was not longer holding him down, and yet, it was as if Stiles just _couldn't move._

He was able to see as the man pressed the blade on his arm arm, letting the blood flow freely. He watched as the man leaned over his body again, letting his blood drip into his fresh wound.

Stiles felt another wave of nausea, as he tried to squirm away. He really hoped he didn't have some infectious disease.

Oh god, but he did practically admit he was a supernatural. What if whatever he was doing made him turn into...him? What ever he was, Stiles didn't want to know.

The man stood up, and suddenly, Stiles was able to sit up as well. A wave of dizziness and fear overcame him.

"What-" He gulped, "What did you do to me?"

The man smiled, and this time, Stiles could see it clear in the dark. He could even smell the iron-rich blood now. His heart skipped a beat.

"You'll see. Night night." He said, and suddenly, Stiles was welcoming the darkness once again.

0o0o0o

 **Also, fellow readers, I might want to mention that I'm the kind of person (more like, Sadist or chaos-craving) that finds joy in stories where my favoirte character is hurt (but MUST live). So, be warned.**

 **Also, there will probably be a LOT of mention of pain in...well, any of my stories.**

 **I have chronic pain (seven years and counting) and so, my mind is pretty much always thinking 'pain pain pain pain pain' so yeah, you can see why it's something that shows up a lot in any story I right. If this bothers you, then I do apologize. :P**


	2. The Confrontation

**Basically, a lot of information on what the hell is happening.**

Chapter 2 - The confrontation.

0o0o0o

"Stiles, wake up!"

Stiles quickly sat up on his bed, startled by his dad barging into his room to wake him up.

Usually he doesn't sleep through his alarm...

Oh right. Malia.

Stile's dad just tilted his head as he watched his son's face full of confusion. He just shook his head and closed the door. "You have like, fifteen minutes to get to school."

Without another thought, Stiles jumped out of his bed, his feet tangling in his blanket in the process. He hit the floor with a loud _thump_ , but quickly got back up. He stopped when he spotted his face in the mirror.

In just those few seconds, everything came to him. Malia. His broken finger. The throwing up. Brett. Detention and an angry Mr. Barkely. His jeep. The full moon.

The vampire.

His heart was practically beating out of his chest.

How the hell did he even home? More importantly, how the hell is his face back to normal? He lifts his t-shirt on - which wasn't the bloody one he was wearing yesterday, and looked at his stomach.

There wasn't a single scar.

He lookeda at his arm, which also didn't scar.

Did last night even happen? Was he dreaming? Was it still Monday?

Stiles looked at his phone, which was now on his charger next to his bed. It was odd, sense usually he charges his phone by his desk, but it definitely wasn't something he needed to worry about.

"You're going to be late!" Stile's dad yelled, and Stiles was almost sure he was standing next to him.

How come it wasn't so loud when he woke him up?

Stiles tried to focus on his breathing, which was getting faster each second. The more he paniced, the more he could notice everything that was... _different._

He could hear his dad's heart beat. He could hear the clinging of the mug against the counter. He could hear the bacon sizzle, even though he was on a diet. He could hear the birds outside. He could hear the rusting of leaves drifting through the wind outside.

And he could smell blood. His blood. It was iron-rich and almost taunting, like it was begging to be found.

Stiles sniffed around. He spotted his piles of last night's clothes folded neatly in his desk drawer as if saying 'this nightmare is real.' in blood. In _his_ blood.

He knew the man must have took him home. Which explained why he has changed, and why he is even home in the first place.

Stiles remembered his jeep. He only had ten minutes to get to school, and he could already hear his dad getting in his car.

Without much thought, Stiles burst through his door and ran down the stairs. He was a _lot_ faster than he expected. In fact, the floor and everything around him had become a blur because of how fast he was. He found himself nearly running into his dad's car who barely got out of the driveway. He could tell he startled his dad, seeing his eyes nearly pop out of his head as he was about to press on the gas.

"I forgot. I don't have a ride." Stiles said, and his dad looked at him as if he was crazy. He had looked at Stiles, to the driveway, then back at him.

As if reading his mind, Stiles looked at the driveway himself. His jeep was there. His tires weren't slashed, and nothing was scratched.

How the-?

"You forgot you had a jeep, Stiles?"

"N-no, I just meant it wasn't really working yesterday. But, i'll t-take a look." Stiles studdered. Without wanting to look at his dad's odd expression, he quickly walked back into the house, not wanting to run. He had a feeling a human couldn't run as fast as he could just earlier.

He looked at his clock. Six minutes until class. There was no way he could get dressed in time for school. Which, reminded him, he needed money for lunch.

Oh, and to take his damn Adderall.

Stiles quickly found something to wear. He looked at the time as he brushed his teeth with so much speed, he was sure his gums were going to bleed.

He still had six minutes left, even though he was positive his time was up. He took his pill, then found himself grabbing his backpack and some lunch money, then running out the door. He looked at his jeep and at the woods.

Maybe he could-?

He wanted to test this whole super-speed thing. He didn't feel real. It felt like he was imagining it. He needed to know.

He found himself running towards the woods. He could barely see the trees surrounding him. Hell, he could barely _feel_ the ground beneath him. It was like he was running through nothing. Like he was floating.

Before he knew it, he was in the school's parking lot. He looked at his phone.

Four minutes until the bell.

Okay, so the super-speed thing was real. He could live with that. Well, maybe. He can't go running through the halls to get to class though. He was pretty sure that would raise some suspicion. He would just have to settle for speed-walk.

 _Oh god,_ Stiles thought, suddenly realizing all the possibilities of his new-found ability.

 _Lacrosse. Coach is going to make me run for getting detention AND not going. He can't run. He can't know!_

His eyes widened with another possibility, and he started to walk a little faster to class, hoping to avoid anyone he knew.

 _The pack. They can't know. Not now. Not yet. Hell, I don't even know what exactly is going on right now. I might be a vampire for god sakes. Wait, don't vampires burn in the sunlight?_

Stiles looked up at the sky. He had to admit, his eyes did seem more sensitive to the sunlight, but he definitely wasn't burning or turning into ashes.

"okay, good...good...that makes it that much easier to hide." Stiles told himself quietly, soon finding himself already taking a seat in his first period. His teacher cocked his head at him, surprised that he was early. Actually, he was the only one there besides this one nerd, but that guy is always that early.

Stiles chose to ignore his confused expression and just pulled out his books. He needed to take his mind off of everything, but he knew he wouldn't be able to. He knew that the pack would soon smell it on him. He couldn't deal with it right now.

"Wish I could just go home sick." Stiles mumbled under his breath, not wanting to deal with...well, anything today. He didn't want to deal with the pack finding out, and he didn't want to deal with coach making him run. He wasn't sure if he was able to run like a normal human being.

 _Something I'm not anymore._

Stiles was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of saddness. He was no longer going to be the human in the pack. Now, it's Mason's turn for that.

He knew one day it was going to happen. He just didn't expect it to happen like _this._

"You okay? You look a little pale."

Stiles was surprised to look up and realize it was the _teacher_ that asked. The teacher that is usually greatly annoyed at him, especially sense he was practically always late for first period.

The whole 'pale' comment made him sick to his stomach. Was he going to be pale for the rest of his life now? Or was that another myth, like the sun and the burning to ashes thing? He could only hope so.

Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly found himself puking his guts out. He was near a panic attack as he realized it was all blood. And he had a feeling the blood wasn't _his._

"Oh god, let's get you to the nurse."

Stiles allowed the teacher to help him up. He was thankful that the bell still hasn't rung, and so students weren't starring at him. Well, except the nerd, but that's because that was probably the most action he's ever got in his entire life besides reading a comic book.

Stiles was suddenly thankful for his little...incident, because now he was able to go home. Good, he could avoid the pack. Except, he could see far up ahead Malia walking towards him. He turned to the teacher, "I'm going to the bathroom, then I'll head to the nurse. Promise." Stiles gave a small, fake smile. "Don't worry, I just had...uh, an Icee this morning."

"You had a cherry Icee for breakfast?"

"Don't judge." Stiles said, giving a fake wince of pain. The teacher backed up quickly and just nodded. Stiles wanted to run, but instead, he opted to speed-walk out of the school and into the woods, hoping Malia or anyone else didn't notice.

Stiles was running as fast as he could. He had made it to his house in less than two minutes, but it just didn't seem like enough. So, he threw his backpack on his bed, then went back into the woods.

He spent his first fifteen minutes just running around until he had tripped over a large root and fell face-first. He could smell his own blood, and had pulled his phone out to see how bad the damage was.

There was a cut on his eye, but he watched in a mixture of shock and horror as the cut healed before his eyes. He wipped the blood off, licking it without realizing. It was his own blood, so...that didn't count, right? If he was a vampire.

The next half hour, Stiles had spent time running. Normal running. He realized that hiding the enhanced speed was a lot easier, and he sighed with relief realizing that he could hide this new ability from the coach.

Stiles was back at his house before he knew it. Crossing the whole "get speed under control" on his imaginary to-do list, Stiles thought about the whole scent-problem with the pack.

He wondered what he actually did smell like to other supernaturals, and actually took his shirt off and took a big whiff in order to see if he could smell anything.

He didn't, but that gave him an idea.

He shot up from where he was sitting and grabbed last nights clothes. He sniffed it, and all the scents overflowed his nose at once.

It was like with every scent gave him a clear image of what he was dealing with. Well, almost every scent.

First thing he noticed was the smell of death. Okay, fine, he knew death technically didn't have a particular smell, but for some reason, thats what it smelled like. Death. Or poison. It wasn't like the rotting of flesh, but more like a mixture of scents forming into one. Like flower pedals, something of a sour scent, nature, and something that was rich like blood. It had all came together to form this scent and feeling of...poison and death. It wasn't necessarily a _bad_ smell, but it wasn't good either. Stiles didn't know how to explain, but he just knew what the scent meant. Death. And he had a funny feeling that wasn't referring to the whole vampire thing. It was something more, and Stiles heart had skipped a beat. What was he, really?

The next thing he noticed was something familiar. It was the smell of an animal, and although he hasn't smelled a _real, normal_ fox, he was certain that was what the smell was. A fox. And again, his heart seemed to skip a beat. This time, he had thought about the nogistune.

There was this other scent that smelled...fresh. It felt like what electricity would smell like, without the burning-scent. Stiles didn't know what to think, but it only gave him one thought; Energy. Which didn't actually give as much detail as Stiles wanted.

Then, there were other scents, but Stiles couldn't make them out. It was like they were burried beneath the other scents. The stronger ones. The smell of death, fox and energy overpowered them all. But there was more.

Was the man that turned him even a vampire?

Again, Stiles heart seemed to beat out of his chest. He wasn't used to the fact that he was no longer human.

 _Maybe the pack can accept me now..._

Stiles shook his head, wanting to think nothing else of the pack right now. He wondered what they would think. He wondered if they would be happy, or mad that he wanted to keep it a secret.

Well, that he _is_ keeping it a secret. For now, at least.

"You must have a lot of questions." A voice behind him said.

Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin. He jumped back, grabbing the first thing he could see, and placed it defensivly in front of him. He knew a lamp was probably not going to do much for...what ever he was.

"H-how-" Stiles started to ask, but truth was, he didn't even know what he wanted to ask. Actually, he didn't know what to ask _first._

What was he? Why did he turn him? Also, how come he didn't hear him? Maybe he needed to get used to the whole heart beat thing, but he was pretty sure he would of heard a door - or _something-_ sense the guy actually seemed to come through the front door like a normal person, unlike everyone else he knew.

"I'm your alpha. You can't hear me coming."

For the first time, Stiles could see the man's features. He was white and very muscular. He was tall, too, and actually looked a lot like Peter, but looked to be in his 40's, or so. His hair was a dark brown, and his eyes were a dark green.

"I thought that whole Alpha thing was just with werewolf packs."

He titled his head to the side as if trying to think. Then, he just let a small laugh escape his lips. For some reason, this made Stiles feel more relaxed, and he didn't know why. He decided to set the lamp back down.

"Well, Scott's pack isn't exactly a _werewolf_ pack, per se. I mean, with a banshee and two humans plus a werecoyote." He paused for a moment, and another laugh came. "Well, _former_ human."

Stiles growled, not expecting it to be...well, a _actual_ _nonhuman growl._

The Alpha stepped closer to him. Stiles felt threatened, and he wanted desperately to grab the lamp again.

"I know you have questions, Stiles."

Stiles licked his lips, not sure what to ask first.

"How about I just start telling all that I think you should know? Stop whenever you get confused."

Stiles just nodded. He continued.

"You might be asking - well, I _know_ your asking what I am." He paused, walking slowly in the small room. He picked up something on his shelf, and set it down quietly.

"I'm not just one _thing_ , Stiles. I'm...more than that."

"Like a hybrid?" Stiles asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Ish. I was born this way, but it was more like a...doformity. A good deformity."

Stiles didn't feel like any of this was going to be 'good.'. He had a strange feeling this alpha - _his_ alpha- was more like Peter.

Did he just admit the guy that turned him into _this_ was his alpha? Great.

The guy cleared his throat, "If you want to name names, you could say that I'm a Nephilim."

Stiles honestly wasn't expecting that.

"It's like a half angel, half demon. Except, before you say anything, angels and demons don't actually have _anything_ to do with god or the devil. Well, if they even exist. Angels are not always good, and demons aren't always bad. It's just a name for their abilities. Kind of like, how werewolves aren't always good or bad. Like, your friend, Scott and Peter."

"You know my friends." Stiles said, more like a statement than a question.

"I only met you yesterday, Stiles. I just learn quickly." He sighed heavily then sat on the edge of his bed and continued. "You see Stiles, I'm more like a combination of things. A drainer, a werefox, a caster, an angel, a demon, a reaper, a necromancer." He laughed loudly this time, "I could be anything. I could be the most powerful man on the planet."

"H-how?" Stiles studdered, afraid of his voice now. "And, what is a drainer?"

"A drainer is a vampire. I just dislike Hollywood's vocabulary sometimes. Too many myths. You know, I know you were afraid to combust in flames at the sight of the sun, Stiles. Not funny." He gave a frown, but continued, "Also, blood is a powerful thing."

He stood up again, walked back to the shelf and pretended to be memorized of all of Stiles books on mythology.

Well, _someone_ had to do the research around here.

"What do you mean by that?" This time, Stiles sat on the edge of his bed.

"If I kill a supernatural _and_ drink their blood, I gain all of their abilities." He said simply, "I could be the most powerful man in the world. Do you know why I choose not to, Stiles?"

"Hunters?" Stiles questioned. It was highly likely. He could see why hunters would want to kill the most powerful supernatural on the planet.

"Yes, but also because the more abilities one has, the more weaknesses."

Stiles just tilted his head in response.

"The werewolves, Stiles. They can't pass a line of wolf's bane. Seriously, I mean, one little thing and it's like, I could make them watch their family die just by placing wolf's bane around them." He laughed, then realized he was getting off topic. He clearned his throat, "Well, all supernaturals have a weakness. Maybe it's not physical, but maybe it's...emotional."

Great, Stiles didn't need to deal with more emotional problems. He already had panic attacks to worry about.

The man just sighed, "Drainers - Or, Vampires, you say, tend to see the dead. At first, they will see the dead in how they imagine them. For example, Allison."

Stiles stiffened at the sound of her name.

"I know you were possessed by a nogitsune, Stiles. I know you still feel guilty for her death." He sighed once more, "Let's say you see her. The first time you see her, she won't be there. Well, she will, but she won't _really_ be there. She will say stuff like, "I hate you" and blah blah blah, because that's what you _feel_ like she should say. Once you realize that it's all in your head, you will see her _real_ spirit."

Stiles gave a half-smile at the thought of seeing Allison...or his mom, again. But he wasn't very fond of the whole guilty-conscious part.

"A vampire's weakness is death itself, Stiles. Unlike what most people thing, Vampires hate killing. And that is why."

"But...the whole...blood thing." Stiles said, not sure how to ask. Not even sure _what_ he was asking.

"Yes, the whole 'blood thing.'" He mocked, Stiles frowned. "You can live the rest of your life on animal blood. Doesn't mean you need to kill the animal, but if you do, it won't affect you." He clearned his throat again, "except, once a month you'll need blood from a human or a supernatural, but supernatural blood does depend on other factors too." He sat on the bed, thankfully not too close to Stiles.

"If you drink supernatural blood without killing them, they wont turn and you also wont get their abilities, don't worry. Also, you can survive off blood, but that doesn't mean you'll want to."

"What do you mean?" Now, Stiles was slightly worried. It's good that he could live without it.

"That's something you'll need to figure out on your own. What you will experience is not the same as putting it into words." He shivered, which made Stiles _really_ worry.

Stiles wanted to know more about how 'supernatural blood depended on multiple factors', but also wanted to know about the weaknesses of each supernatural, especially the ones that he was. Did he have all the same abilities as him?

He forgot he could read minds. He watched as he sighed in what seemed like annoyance and started speaking again, "We all have blood types, Stiles. A, B, AB and O. Then there's the whole Rh factor, the part that makes it negative or positive." He trailed off, looking around the room again as if bored with the conversation, "Well, when you drink blood, that doesn't matter. Not for you, anyway. But, with supernatural blood, it's a little different. It's like, Supernaturals have their own types of blood."

Stiles looked confused. He continued.

"Light, Dark, and a mixture of the two. It's not grey, but more like...the colors didn't quite mix well. Most supernaturals call it type O, sense it's able to give to all and take from all. Quite similar to blood type O in regular humans and supernaturals as well." He trailed off again, "Well, lets say you decide to take blood from another supernatural. You have dark energy, which runs through your blood. You can't see it, though. You can just feel it." He clearned his throat. "Well, let's also say that the blood you take has energy that is light. If you drink that blood, then it's poison, in a way. It won't kill you, but it will make you extremely sick and require you to drink a lot more human blood in a month than normal."

"And with grey blood-well, energy, then it doesn't matter?" Stiles seemed to caught on, but the guy shook his head.

"Not exactly. Grey energy is like...a trickster. They'll deal with light and dark energy, but only when it feels like it. If you take blood with grey energy, you have the possibility of feeling sick or not. Greys should just stick to greys. Stick with your energy type."

"Got it." The only thing he seemed to get, really.

"Also, if you drink supernatural blood with the same energy as you, you will be a lot more powerful. Your abilities will be heightenened, you'll feel a sense of high, and will be...overwhelmingly happy or lustful." He smiled as if remembering what it was like.

"Strange, but I like." Stiles was surprised to find him say. Usually blood was quite disgusting to him, but not only did he get used to it from all the years with running with wolves, but plus, sense he got turned it didn't bother him anymore.

"So, you know a werewolves weakness, and you know a vampires."

"What about..." Stiles tried to think of the other beings he had said he was. He wanted to know those first, "-a reaper." He shuddered. Was he really a reaper? He may have killed donovan in self-defense, but he didn't think he could handle being a reaper. A killer. Scott would hate him. His father would probably disown him.

The man laughed, "First, a reaper is any supernatural being that can kill without leaving an actual trace. You are three types of reaper."

"There's types?"

He nodded, "A lot more than three."

"What types am I? well, we."

"You can kill someone by wishing it out loud, through your voice in a form of a death-related song or scream, or by touch."

Stiles eyes widened. What if he accidently touched someone-?

"Don't worry. You have to actually _want_ them to be dead. Brushing up against someone at school wont do anything. Even screaming at someone wont do anything if you dont want them dead. And I mean, Truly want them dead."

There was a moment of silence before he continued, "When you kill through this ability, you take their soul. In a way, you 'eat' their soul. You only have it for a week, but in that week your abilities are powerful and enhanced. When you have blood of the same energy type, it's the same. With blood, it last for about an hour or two. With souls, it last a week. Also, after the week, the soul is free, but darkened by your touch."

"What do you mean, darkened?"

He laughed loudly, "Theres different types of spirits. Maybe thats something to talk about at another time." He looked at his watch, and Stiles realized two things.

He wasn't afraid of him. Hell, for some reason, he kind of trusted him. Even liked him. But, he also didn't want the conversation to end. He wanted to know more.

"A reaper's weakness is craving. They often crave souls. You'll see at some point, that consuming souls is a _great_ feeling. Reapers know they shouldn't feel that way, but its difficult to feel any other way." He paused, sounding sad. "Although they never want to kill friends or family, they do tend to crave to kill animals, practicing their abilities on them."

Stiles winced. He didn't want to become that.

"These weaknesses seem different than a werewolves." Sties couldn't help but notice.

He shrugged, "werewolves have it a lot easier." He laughed, and Stiles thought of another creature.

"Okay, a Caster. What is that? A witch?"

The man's eyes sparkled. "You catch on quick, I see."

Stiles just smiled in response, hating how he was growing to like the man that turned him. He liked being human, he _really_ did.

"A caster's weakness is energy. Not just the typical day-to-day energy in everything living, but supernatural energy. The dark, the light and the grey. Casters are more sensitive to it, so if a caster has dark energy - like you and I - and are around someone with light energy, they may start feeling weak and dizzy and drained of power. It doesn't affect them in the long run, and it can't kill them."

"Just not really cool." Stiles finished. He laughed.

"Also, casters tend to be more sensitive to emotions and other's feelings. The bad side? You can feel someone's saddness as if you experienced it yourself. You wanna know what's good about it though?"

"What's that?"

The man was smiling, raising his eyebrows. "Woman. You can look at them and know everything they long for. You can feel what makes them-"

"Alright, Alright, I get it." Stiles laughed loudly this time, feeling a lot more happier. "I don't think we hit that whole sex-talk in our friendship yet, big guy."

The guy just laughed. Stiles realized he didn't know his name. He shrugged it off, thinking he'll ask later, and decided he wanted to know more.

"A werefox."

"Oh god." He laughed again, "there's like this... _itch_ you get. It's overwhelming. Like you _have_ to shift. You can't go more than a week without turning into a fox." He frowned then, "hunters mess it up though. Plenty of werefoxes had died because they chose not to shift in order to protect themselves and their children. When you don't shift _at all_ , your body...desinigrates."

Stiles could see how werewolves have it easy. He wondered why a werefox was different than a werewolf and a werecoyote.

"werefoxes are only different because most werefoxes were cursed to have that itch. It allowed the hunters to find them easy. Most of the werefoxes that don't carry the curse are dead."

Stiles clearned his throat. He wanted to ask about other creatures, but still wanted to know about one more thing...

"So, the mind reading. Where does that come from?"

"The vampire. Also, the mind control."

"Mind control?" Stiles thought back to the night he turned him. He still wondered why he wasn't mad anymore.

He remembered how he felt paralyzed when he drank his blood. He shivered then spoke again, "That makes a lot of sense now."

He nodded, "The mind control wont always work. Especially with supernaturals with strong barriers or energy." He shook his head, not wanting to explain, but Stiles pretty much understood anyway.

"You said...uh...necromancer. How is that-?"

"Possible? How is any of this possible?" He sighed, "when a necromancer brings someone back to life, they really bring their body back to life. In a way, their brain as well, but not as it was before. They can have memories like before, but...they need a lot more to survive."

"Like?"

"They have to consume blood daily, flesh weakly, and brains monthly."

"So, like a zombie?"

"With a set schedule."

Great. Werewolves, vampires, zombies. What could go wrong? Everything.

Stiles sighed. He felt like there were more abilities, and he needed to know them all. He knew what he was now, but what abilities came from each?

"I missed one." He said, and Stiles cleared his throat. "What?"

"A healer. You're also a healer."

"Thought that came with a vampire. Or werefox. Or both."

He shrugged. "Well, they all can heal a lot faster, but that's not what I meant."

"What _do_ you mean, then?"

"You can not only heal others, but you can absorb the pain and give it to someone else, killing them with it."

"Great. Death. Sounds wonderful." Stiles said sarcastically.

"Also, theres the whole, you can absorb heat thing. You can absorb it from people, so theres that unexplainable cause of death thing too."

How the hell would he even explain this to the pack? Or his dad?

Yup. Telling the head sheriff of Beacon Hills that his son was turned into a killer.

"Just because you have like...five different abilities that can kill someone, doesn't make you a killer."

"Really?" Stiles said in disbelief.

"A killer is someone that...kills for the hell of it. Not someone that does it to protect themselves or others. You don't need to kill to get blood. You don't require living off souls. You may kill some animals, but...you aren't a killer."

"You mean, we aren't a killer?"

He was silent at first. "The reaper's weakness has grown strong on me, Stiles. I am afraid I can't say I'm not a killer anymore." he looked sad, and Stiles frowned.

"Oh..." He trailed off, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wondered how long they've been talking.

He suddenly groaned, sounding somewhat annoyed. "By the way, it's going to take a double dosage of your Adderall for it to actually work on your rambling mind."

Mind-reader. Forgot.

He just smiled and stood up. I stood up too, a little too fast. I could feel a little weak.

"You might need blood soon. And...human blood. You were just turned, so you will be drinking more than the average vampire your age." He looked like he felt sorry, and Stiles wanted to ask why the hell he turned him then, but chose not to.

He frowned, hearing every thought. "I wish you luck on telling your pack."

"You don't want to help me break the news?"

He cocks his head to the side, "You make it sound like its bad news."

Maybe it is.

"Oh." Was all that he said. He shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Maybe." He said, and Stiles realized another thing.

He was nice. He wasn't like Peter.

Hell, he can't believe he's saying this, but he seemed more nice than...Scott's pack, who seemed to disown him for being an annoying, weak human.

He's not sure if he really wants to tell.

"I see your conflict here," He pauses, turning towards the door. "Use strong soap to cover your scent if you want it a secret. For now. Or, just imagine your scent being hidden. Might take a while to get it right, but...there's a _spark_ in you. I feel like you'll learn fast." He paused, "Also, the name's Alvey."

Before Stiles could say anything else, he left. He didn't even hear the door open or close, and Stiles wondered how he did that. Like he disappeared out of thin air.

 _0o0o0o_

Stiles was surprised to find that they have talked for an hour and a half. He was also surprised at finding out that everyone was texting him.

 **Malia:**

 **I saw you run out. Are you OK?**

 **Malia:**

 **I smelled your blood...please text me back.**

Stiles felt his heart sink. The last time he talked to the werecoyote, he had snapped at her, and now he hasn't even texted her because he was distracted with Alvey. His Alpha.

He realized that now that he's been turned, and that Alvey as his Alpha - technically, doesn't that make him not in Scott's pack? It's like...he can't _not_ be in Alvey's pack. Well, is it even a pack?

He wished he asked when he had the chance. Or at least for his number. If the guy even had one.

He continued to read through the messages.

 **Scott:**

 **Malia told me she smelled your blood in first period. Are you ok? I'm coming by the house after school.**

Oh, wonderful. He should probably think whether to tell the pack about what he is by then. He should give himself enough time to shower, or even practice the whole hiding-scent trick too. He still felt unsure. Lying wasn't easy with werewolves, but it sure beat telling the truth.

 **Scott:**

 **Please answer, Stiles. What the hell happened?**

 **Kira:**

 **OH MY GOD, STILES. What happened? Why aren't you answering anyone's texts?**

Stiles just shook his head.

 **Derek:**

 **Heard what happened. If you don't text anyone by 2pm, we're all going to drag your ass out of bed and make you tell us yourself.**

 _How sourwolf of you._

 **Lydia:**

 **I'm taking the fact that I don't have the urge to scream as a good sign, but I can't help but feel worried. So, please answer.**

 **Lydia:**

 **Nevermind. Something is wrong. I can feel it. Please just tell me you're OK.**

Stiles heart sank. Did she know that something was wrong? Or was someone going to die?

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

 **Liam:**

 **Answer your phone, man. You even got the whole lacrosse team talking about what happened.**

Great. Just great.

 **Liam:**

 **Speaking of team...that captain guy, you know, the one on the football team? He came by looking for you. Looked beyond pissed. Don't tell me you chickened out and went home.**

Oh. Maybe he shouldn't tell them after all. All they know him as is the weak one.

 **Scott:**

 **What did you do, Stiles? Why is that football player, Brett, so pissed at you? He looked like he wanted to beat your ass! If you went home because of that...you could of told me. We're here for you, that's what a pack is for. Okay, bro?**

 **Scott:**

 **Look, if this is about the pack night...**

Stiles' heart dropped. So it was true.

 **Scott: (Continued)**

 **You were just really pissy with Malia and with me after school. Everyone just felt weird, because you were just...cranky, you know? It's nothing personal. We missed you, but...we couldn't handle any fights. Not on the night of the full moon.**

That didn't help.

 **Derek:**

 **Tick, Tock.**

 **Lydia:**

 **If this is about Brett, I'll kick his ass for you, damnit.**

 _Because I'm weak? Just say it._

 **Malia:**

 **Babe? Please answer.**

 **Dad:**

 **Dead body in woods. Claims to be animal attack. You know anything?**

 **Dad:**

 **Got a call that you threw up blood. You better be either home or the hospital! I'm calling Melissa**

Damn. This wont end well.

 **Dad:**

 **I'm coming home soon. When I get there, you better tell me what the hell happened. And if this animal attack has anything to do with the fact that you suddenly started throwing up blood..**

 **Dad:**

 **I won't be mad. I just want you safe, Stiles. I just don't like you running around with the wolves. I don't want you to get hurt anymore.**

 **Dad:**

 **Another dead body. Two in four days. Can't say any more, but if you know anything, please tell me. Won't be home soon, after all. But if you dont answer your phone soon then I will.**

Stiles smiled at his lame threat. He saw that those were the last of the messages, then sighed.

Two 'animal' attacks in four days? He was pretty sure it wasn't any regular animal.

Does it have to do with Alvey being in town? How long has he even been in town? Maybe he can get some information from his dad.

He dialed his dad quickly, and patiently waited for him to pick up.

"Stiles." His dad sounded relieved, and he felt bad for not noticing his phone when Alvey was here. He was glad that no one came to the house while he was, though.

"Hey, Dad. Sorry about that. I feel a lot better though. Don't worry, though. It was just some food that I ate that made it look like blood. I don't know why I was throwing up. I think its a 24 hour thing." Stiles lied through his teeth, and he wondered when it became so easy. Was it when Scott got bitten?

"That's fine." He said, and he could hear it in his voice that he wanted to ask about those attacks, so Stiles asked first. He always did.

"Were their claw marks?" Stiles asked, getting straight to the point.

"Bite marks, actually. Forensics said it was a fox, most likely. But, the mouth was too big for a fox. Plus..." He lowered his voice, "There was a lot of blood loss, but the blood wasn't around the body. Like it was moved."

 _Or drained._

Stiles cleared his throat. "This started on Friday?"

"Yeah." He coughed, and he could hear movement. "Should I be cautious of that Kitsune girl?"

This time, Stiles couldn't help but laugh. "She's a kitsune, Dad. She can't shift into a actual full on fox."

"Ah, okay. Well, you don't know what's going on with this at all? Do you think its...supernatural related?"

Stiles thought for a moment. He wanted his dad to believe it was an animal attack. He didn't want to mention it to Melissa, who would mention it to Scott, who would tell the rest of the pack. He didn't want the pack to look for Alvey.

His alpha. His...pack?

"We're figuring it out, dad." Stiles lied. He wanted to pretend it was a regular animal attack, but he also knew his dad wouldn't believe him, and would see right though that little white lie.

He didn't want the pack to look for Alvey - if it was him - either. He trusted him, even though he attacked him and turned him purposely into this...Nephilim, creature.

"You okay?"

"Feeling a little nausous, that's all." Stiles lied again, sighing as he did so. "I need to tell everyone else I'm fine. They're also worried. Call you soon?"

"Yeah. Tell your pack your fine, Stiles." His dad laughed as he mentioned his "pack."

Stiles immediately felt sad, because he knew it wasn't his pack anymore. Was it really? Alvey as his alpha? How would he even be able to have a Alpha while in another pack?

Isn't that like, against the rules or something?

"Gotta go." Stiles quickly said and hung up. He sighed with relief, then started texting everyone else.

 **To: Malia**

 **Hey babe... I'm fine. Don't worry. And...sorry. For snapping at you. These past two days haven't been treating me well. We'll talk later. Promise.**

 **To: Scott**

 **I'm fine.**

Stiles realized he felt mad at Scott more than anyone else. Scott was supposed to be the pack leader. He was supposed to be the one that made everyone feel welcome. He was there when Scott got bitten, he was there when all this shit went down, and he ditched him without a word because he was too "cranky"? He never onced asked what was wrong. At least, if he did, he never tried talking to him.

 **To: Derek**

 **I'm fucking peachy, thanks for asking.**

Stiles wasn't sure where the anger for Derek came from. But it wasn't like Derek was any better than Scott. Always slamming him into walls. He couldn't heal. Well, not at the time anyway. And they didn't care if he was hurt. Hell, if he told them, Derek would probably feel more welcomed to beat his ass.

 **To: Liam**

 **Brett's just on his period. He'll get over it.**

Stiles laughed, because although he felt angry over Brett and him and his little football buddies beating him up, he realized that now (maybe, he hasn't practiced) he could probably beat his ass back.

 **To: Lydia**

 **You're the only one who genuinely seems like they care. So, I'll be honest with you: I'm doing horrible. These past two days have been the worst two days of my life and I'm depressed and loney and pissed off and worst of all...I'm freaking out. So, no, Lydia. I'm not fine. I'm not going to be fine soon, either. And I'm struggling on whether I should even tell you...or anyone for that matter...what is going on. I can't even talk to my own dad. I can't even tell Scott, and I tell him everything. And I can't even tell you, because I feel like you'll hate me. And I can't live with you hating me.**

Stiles didn't know where that mini-rant came from. He's always felt like he trusted Lydia, and maybe after this...maybe he could tell her a little bit. Little by little.

 **To: Kira**

 **I'll be fine. Thanks.**

Stiles didn't know what to say to Kira. To be fair, they barely ever talked. Kira was mostly with Scott, kind of like how Scott and Allison were.

The thought of Allison made him realize that he had to be prepared. Alvey said he would be seeing Allison, but not really _seeing_ her until he got over the guilt. He doesn't think he could, though.

Stiles sighed once more, then headed towards the shower. He needed to cover his scent in case any of the pack wanted to talk to him. Something that he wasn't ready for.

At all.

0o0o0o

 **A/N: Think I made a lot of spelling mistakes. Didn't spell check. Sorry.**

 **If you are serious about critique, I'm going to be honest with you: I write FanFiction to get my daydreams on paper. To entertain myself and others. But...lets be honest, it stops there. I should focus on spelling, I should focus on everything else, but I just don't. So, if it bothers you, I really am sorry!**

 **I feel like I shouldn't mention that I don't own teen wolf because well, we are on fanfiction, and no stories on here owns whatever their fiction is based off of. I think its common sense, so seeing the disclaimer over and over again gets annoying.**

 **Also I do own a lot of characters like Mr. Barkley, Brett and his football buddies and Alvey. But, I don't give a f*** because anyone can use those characters anyway, and its not like it matters.**

 **So, theres my "disclaimer" about how annoying disclaimers are. hahahaha...okay bye.**

 **Next chapter:**

 **Should Stiles tell the pack About Alvey and his new abilities? Or should he keep it a secret, along with the mysterious 'animal attacks' in Beacon Hills?**

 **Will the pack or his dad ever forgive him if he does?**


	3. Truth Comes To Light

**A/N: A shorter chapter, but I'll write soon. I've got a lot on my schedule.**

 **So, I'm a senior in high school at the moment. I'm on a dance team, and we are in the middle of contest season. This Saturday is Show Offs, and so practices...ugh, well, I don't have a lot of free time, and it's really annoying. Why did I even join the team in the first place? I don't even know. I guess I'm trying to be a normal, human fucking being, but seriously I'm super lazy.**

 **Anyway, thanks for the review, HeartlessNobody13! I'm the type of writer that will continue with a story usually depending on the first review, and you're review really made my day good! So, thanks!**

 **This chapter isn't as good as I thought it was. I feel a little brain dead haha.**

 **Well, I'm hoping to explain a lot more vampire myths vs truths in later chapters, as well more about Alvey and Ryan (you'll see who he is), and more. Also, Fox!Stiles will be coming up in my next chapter, and he's usually my favorite to write :D**

 **Anyway, back to the story...**

0o0o0o

Alvey was right. The soap did cover up his scent well.

Scott was the first one to arrive. He had knocked frantically on his front door, not stopping until Stiles opened it, giving him a stern glare.

"Is that necessary?" Stiles said the minute he swung the door opened, his arm still holding the door. Stiles could still feel the anger and anxiety radiating off himself.

Scott ducked under Stile's arm as he made is way through the living room. He stopped and faced Stiles, a look of anger and worry visible on his face. "What's been going on with you? Why have you been so mad? And why is _Brett_ mad? And...what the hell, why do you smell like cheap cologne and...is that Lavender?" Scott scrunched up his nose. Stiles just rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him as he made his way to the kitchen. He needed coffee if he was going to have to deal with Scott. Hell, he knew that the rest of the pack were still coming over, even though he _did_ answer all of their texts.

"Hey, least I didn't wash myself in Wolf's Bane." Stiles tried to joke, but it only came out sounding bitter.

"Are you mad at me? Is this about the night of the full moon? Stiles, we just didn't want a fight. Liam and Malia still struggle controlling themselves on full moons sometimes. Everyone knows how you like being human, and everyone knows how when you are angry, sometimes your mouth gets the better of you..."

Stiles huffed. He had a point, but Stiles couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the situation. They didn't want him out on pack night because they wanted poor little Stiles to stay human.

Funny how that turned out.

"Why are you laughing?" Scott looked annoyed now, but Stiles still could see fear deep in those dark brown eyes. He knew he was thinking of the Nogitsune now, and Stiles frowned.

Another knock came at the door, and Stiles groaned. He knew it was Derek, but he wasn't sure how he knew. It wasn't like he knew his scent, because he hasn't seen him sense he got turned. Somehow, he could even tell a nervous little banshee stood right next to him.

Stiles swung the door open and just like Scott, Derek came in without an Invitation.

Stiles was glad that the whole vampire-invitation thing was also a myth, because he wouldn't be able to do the same thing to them after this.

He watched as Lydia watched him in worry as she made her way inside.

Derek was beside Scott now. They both had the same expression of anger and annoyance.

"What the hell has been wrong with you lately?"

Stiles didn't respond. Instead, he went back to the kitchen to get his coffee, which had just finished. He could feel their eyes burning his back as he made his way to the front door again, sensing Liam and Mason.

He opened the door, Mason's hand raised as if he was about to knock. He looked confused, but not that much surprised, and just walked in. Liam followed suit, but his facial expression showed more anger.

Stiles kept the door open this time as he saw two more cars pull up. Malia and Kira came in, and he finally closed the door and gave another sigh as if this was wasting his time.

Which, it was. He didn't think he could tell the pack. Besides, was he even a part of the pack anymore? Alvey being his Alpha..hah, that does sound weird though.

"Everyone is here. So, speak." Derek barked, anger still radiating off his body. It felt like Stiles could _feel_ everything they felt, and it was quite overwhelming.

Alvey had said that he'd get used to it. That the feelings of others will slowly fade where they don't affect his own anymore. But Stiles was pretty sure that didn't mean within hours or days.

He knew they were pissed. He knew they were annoyed, probably thinking this was over something so stupid, like the whole pack night thing.

But, surprisingly, he knew they were worried.

"Stiles, are you in danger?" Lydia had asked, and Stiles bit his lip.

In a way, he was. In danger of hurting others. Although he hasn't felt any hunger yet, he knew it would come eventually, probably hitting with more force than necessary.

Alvey had admitted he was a killer, and after today's shower, Alvey had texted (not sure where he got his number though) and said that he was going to bring him some blood.

He had a strong feeling that it wasn't donated willingly. He hated himself, knowing those 'animal' attacks were his fault.

He also felt like he was in danger of being a killer. A monster.

He's a vampire, for god's sake. He's a demon. A reaper. He has all the abilities to become a killer. And, maybe one or two abilities that actually can _help_ someone.

He should of took the bite from Peter a long time ago.

"That depends." Stiles finally answered, without realizing it. He cleared his throat, then took a sip of his coffee, which ended up being freezing cold.

Oh, right, heat absorbtion. He was going to have to get used to that.

He swallowed the foul taste and poured the rest of the coffee down the sink. He turned back to see their worried expressions.

"Does this have to do with Brett?" Lydia asked, and Stiles could hear Derek scoff. It was so quiet, that Stiles wouldn't have heard it without his enhanced hearing. (which was quite annoying sense it didn't come on command).

Derek probably thought this was useless. That _he_ was just a useless, worthless, weak human. He knew Derek probably didn't want Stiles to have anything to do with the pack.

Stiles shook his head at her question, "No. No, it's...something else."

"Is it Theo's pack?" Malia asked, looking like she was going to rip someone's throat out. Well, not just anyone, but Theo's.

"No, it's not that either." Stiles now sounded annoyed that they weren't guessing correctly, but it wasn't like he expected them too. It wasn't like he wanted them to know. He wasn't sure if he should even tell them.

"Is this supernatural-related at all?" Derek asked bitterly.

Now, Stiles was quiet, trying to think how to answer. He knew his heart was beating faster now, which only answered their questions. Well, besides Mason and Lydia.

He suddenly realized that even though he was angry with the pack - not really sure why - he cared about them. He also knew that if he told them what he is now that they probably wouldn't want anything to do with him. Two people died because of him. He has the ability to kill, and Scott doesn't deal with murderers.

"What the hell happened, Stiles?" Scott demanded, and Stiles turned his back. He placed his arms on the cool surface of the counter and just stared out the kitchen window. "I didn't know what to do." He started, but was interuppted by the sudden iron-rich smell of blood. Banshee blood. Lydia must have bit her lip from the tension in the room so hard that it cut it open.

He could feel a warmth cover his eyes like a blanket. His eyes must have shifted, and it was funny. It's like a _knew_ they were yellow, without looking into his reflection. He could feel every single teeth turn sharp, and he let his tounge dance over each individual one, trying to make it turn back, but it wouldn't. The smell had came stronger, and he curled his hands into fist, feeling his claws dig deep into his skin.

The hunger hit him harder than he thought. Alvey had said that as a newborn vampire, he wouldn't feel hungry until he smelled it. He also said that animal blood wouldn't do for now, which is why Stiles was pretty sure Alvey had killed those two people in order to get him the blood. Why he didn't just break into a blood bank - he wasn't sure, but he knew he had a reason.

Still, he craved to taste of the sweet banshee blood off of her silky, smooth skin. He wanted it bad. Hell, he wanted _her_ bad, and he knew he shouldn't. Not while he was dating Malia, but he couldn't help himself. He was starving. It felt like he was dying of thirst. His mouth felt dry and his throat felt raw and suddenly, the only thing he could feel besides hunger was _anger_ for anything that got in his way.

It all happened so quickly. He had turned around and next thing he knew, he was standing right in front of Lydia, starring down at her fear-filled, dark green eyes. Everyone had jumped as if he appeared out of thin air, shocked that not only did he have incredible speed, but that his eyes were a glowing yellow, teeth as sharp as knives, and that he looked like he was ready to kill.

It was like being possessed by the nogitsune all over again. Except, it was like Stiles just couldn't _think._ All he wanted was her blood, and he didn't care about anything else.

Everyone besides Mason attempted to pull Stiles away from Lydia, but Stiles instantly shoved Lydia to the wall while his body practically on top of hers. He could hear the pounding of her heart, and the blood rushing through her veins.

"Don't scream, little banshee." He growled, not sure where that had come from. He couldn't help himself. Hunger had took over.

"St-Stiles, don't!" She cried under her breath, and Stiles took the time to search for something on the shelf next to him. He found the wolf's bane and quickly made a circle around him and the banshee before the others could get to him. He could get used to this enhanced speed.

He didn't forget that Kira and Mason could cross, though. And even Lydia if he didn't have a strong hold on her. So, he smiled at the kitsune and human and said one word.

"Sleep."

In an instant, the two collapsed. Scott had screamed and tried to wake them up, but nothing was working. Stiles let out a laugh and focused his way back to Lydia.

He knew Scott could break open the force field of the wolf's bane. He's done it before. But he knew he still had time to drink her delicious sweet blood.

Stiles grabbed Lydia's arm and without any warning, bit hard. He could feel the sweet taste overflow his mouth, and he almost moaned at the taste.

Images started to flash through his mind, something that Alvey must have forgotten to tell him about. Stiles didn't mind though, he still drank happily with greed as he watched the memories of Lydia Martin.

He was surprised to see they were all of him. Her watching his goofy smile. Her watching him laugh, or take a test that he was pretty sure he failed by the look of his own face. Even when they went to that formal and they had danced to one song, and Stiles finally realized how bad of a dancer he was.

Then, Stiles could see himself having a panic attack. Lydia had bent down, and without much warning, kissed him. He remembered her soft lips on his, and suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach.

Stiles backed off quickly, almost falling out of the circle. He starred at Lydia's crying face, then looked down at her arm. He needed to stop the blood.

He couldn't let her die. He couldn't kill the love of his...

No. He shook his head and stepped closer, seeing her flinch in response. His heart sank, but he held his hand over her bleeding wound, and only hoped the tricks Alvey told him would work.

It did. Soon, he could see black veins in his arm, and feel the pain entering it. He expected the pain to linger in his arm, where he had bit Lydia, but was surprised to find that it spread to his stomach and chest, feeling weighed down by guilt.

After her wound was completely healed, Stiles backed up slowly, preparing himself to face the rest of the angry, vicious (and the two sleeping) pack. Instead, all he felt was something solid behind him. He turned quickly, seeing a very, _very_ disappointed yet guilty looking Alvey. He looked at Lydia, then to the pack who still couldn't get through. He could see Kira and Mason who was still passed out from...whatever Stiles had done, then looked back at Stiles himself.

"Release." The alpha said, and suddenly Kira and Mason began to wake up. Alvey placed his hands on Stile's shoulders, which trembled as tears began to escape his eyes from all the pain he caused, and closed his eyes.

Stiles could feel a gush of strong wind then the smell of nature.

He looked around, finding that they were standing on the Nameton, where just weeks before was covered in bodies.

"Wh-what-" Stiles couldn't finish. His voice was too shakey and he quickly looked away.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Stiles was confused. Why was _he_ sorry? He was the one who almost killed his friends.

"I'm...sorry, Stiles." He paused, biting his lip. "I should've paid more attention to you. I was running, trying to get you some more blood. I didn't even teach you self-control."

Stiles was still confused. Maybe it was because the alpha wasn't pointing blame, like most alpha's Stiles had experienced did.

"you killed-"Stiles started, but stopped. That wasn't important right now.

"No, that was someone else. That was...the reason I turned you."

Stiles looked at him again. "What was?"

"There is another supernatural, similar to us. A Nephilim. They, too, have vampire DNA." Another pause. Stiles could tell this was hard for him. "We need to kill him, Stiles. And I can't do it alone."

Stiles was confused. He had thought that Alvey turned him because he was wandering the streets, covered in his own blood. He thought that he was just an easy target.

"You were an easy target that night, Stiles. When I attacked you, I was planning on killing you. But after reading your mind and seeing that you already know about the supernatural, I figured it wouldn't hurt. To turn you, I mean. I needed help to kill the bastard."

It wouldn't hurt? He was a killer for fucks sake. He almost killed Lydia. And he was sure that if Scott _did_ get through the wolf's bane, he would have killed them too.

"You're the first one I turned." He said suddenly, and Stiles just took a deep breath, looking around him.

"I'm not surprised." Stiles said, not meaning to sound angry.

Alvey just rolled his eyes, "I'm dying, Stiles. The other Nephilim - Ryan, he killed my family, then killed my pack. I need your help to kill him."

"So, I'm guessing that means the whole immortal thing is a myth too?" He had to ask.

"No, you are immortal. But, I'm dying because Ryan was able to extract my ability of immortality. I'm 115 years old. And before you ask, we just age slowly."

Stiles nodded in response, trying to think. This Ryan guy _did_ needed to be taken care of, but he wasn't sure if he could kill him.

Alvey cleared his throat again, "I was looking for him. I-I should of been with you, teaching you to have control. Oh-" Alvey dug into a duffel bag, one that Stiles didn't realize he had, and pulled out a bag of blood, like one found in a hospital.

Least he didn't kill anyone for it.

The sight of the blood made him thirsty again, and he soon ripped the bag out of Alvey's hands and dug his teeth into it, moaning from the delicious taste of sweet, sweet blood.

He finished the bag and let it drop to his feet, but soon had another bag stuffed in his face. After four bags of blood later, Stiles felt satisfied, and even a little sad.

"If I don't have human blood..." He started, after a long awkward moment of silence.

"You won't die. You'll just wish you did. The pain would be unbearable. Speaking of pain - I could tell you healed someone. Guessing the banshee."

Stiles nodded, wondering how he knew, but decided not to ask.

"You absorb pain. You can't hold onto it forever, or else it will make your abilities even harder to control." Alvey said, he looked around, and spotted a deer close by.

Stiles knew exactly what he was going to say.

"I'm not hurting a innnocent animal."

Alvey scoffed, "You will when your starving." He paused, looked around and spotted a flower. "The pain you take is absorbed as energy. You can give it to any living thing and kill it instantly. Here, try it on that-" He pointed to the white, pedaled flower. Stiles just walked to it and placed his hand over it, imaging Lydia's pain flow into it. Soon, he watched as the flower slugged forward, completely dead.

His heart sank, realizing for what felt like the first time of what he could do.

"Better?"

He did feel a lot better, but guilt still weighed on his shoulders. He hoped Lydia was alright.

"So far, you'll need human blood every day. After a while, you'll only need it once a week, then once a month. You would have to live off animal blood. Every once in awhile, you'll require some kind of supernatural blood."

Stiles nodded, biting his lip.

"The flahes-"

"Yeah, that comes with drinking supernatural blood. Speaking of, how do you feel? Sense you are a newborn vampire, you probably won't feel much different just yet. It will hit you though."

That wasn't enough. He needed to know more.

It was almost like Lydia knew that he could see what she saw, as if trying to make him stop.

"It's just a banshee thing." Alvey had responded, and Stiles was getting annoyed with the whole mind-reading thing now.

"They must hate me."

Alvey was silent at first, as if agreeing. "They'll understand, soon."

"Scott doesn't let murderers in his pack."

"You aren't a murderer. And quite frankly...you aren't in his pack anymore either."

Guess that answers that question.

"How do I even tell them that I'm in your pack now?"

Alvey shrugged, looking away from Stiles and watching something in the distance. An animal, probably.

"I can talk to them. I can explain it. Don't worry, you'll be back in Scott's pack eventually. Probably."

"Probably?" His heart skipped a beat.

"I'll be dead soon. You'll either be back in Scott's pack, or you'll be an Alpha yourself. See, with Nephilim's, when your alpha dies, the chosen one becomes the alpha."

"The chosen one? What would that mean if there were more of us in your pack?"

"Chosen by the alpha. Even if there were others in the pack, you would still be next in line."

That kind of made Stiles feel good, but still. Leaving Scott and the others felt horrible. Even if he was still around them, he would miss all those pack nights.

Well, guess he already has a head start on that, doesn't he?

Stiles just bit his lip again. "So, about this Ryan guy. How do we find him?"

Alvey smiled, eyes filled with pride and determination.

0o0o0o

Scott wasn't sure what the hell happened. One minute, Stiles was about to pour out information on what was going on, and the next he was in front of Lydia with glowing yellow eyes. He had _ran_ , and it was more like teleportation.

He saw his teeth, each one sharp. He saw his claws, and he could hear the low growl escape his mouth.

He knew he wasn't a werewolf. There was sudden growth of hair, and those glowing yellow eyes looked a lot more...violent.

Scott couldn't miss how fast he was. He had thrown Lydia against the wall, and with just one hand was holding her back as he poured a straight line of wolf's bane around them. It was so quick, Scott didn't even know what was happening.

Stiles had gave him that evil smile, and it looked terrifying. It reminded him of the Nogitsune, but for some reason, he knew that whatever turned Stiles, it was...whatever he was, _not_ Stiles willfully trying to hurt Lydia.

He watched as Stiles said one word, and Kira and Mason collapse into a heap. He had screamed as he tried to wake them up, but nothing was working.

He went back to the force field of wolf's bane, trying to rip it open as he watched his best friend dig his teeth into Lydia and...drink her blood?

He couldn't believe it. Was his best friend a...vampire?

It didn't take long though, because next thing he knew Stiles had fallen backwards, as if startled by something. He had took a step forward, and they all watched as he healed Lydia's wound.

Then, there was that guy. He just _appeared_ behind Stiles, and for a moment Scott screamed for his name. He had a feeling whoever it was, was the man that turned Stiles. He thought he was going to kill him for a moment, but instead spoke one word, and Kira and Mason had woken up. Scott couldn't move though as he watched his best friend in horror.

The man placed two arms on his friend's shoulder and next thing he knew, he was gone.

"A-are you OK?" Scott tried to take a step forward, but the wolf's bane prevented him.

Lydia nodded, her eyes wide and terrified. She took slow steps forward and broke the line of the wolf's bane.

Scott ran to her, looking at her arm. It was completely healed.

He didn't understand. He healed her faster than Scott could heal anyone. How was that possible? He was just turned.

Wasn't he? He couldn't even smell a scent on Stiles.

Was that why he smelled like cologne and soap? To try to hide his scent?

When did he even get turned? Why didn't he tell him?

And the scent on that man...what the hell was he? It was a scent he never smelt before, and it was terrifying.

Was Stiles OK? Was he planning on hurting him?

"Scott..." Lydia said, breaking him from his thoughts. He shook his head, heart still pounding in his chest.

"I just don't understand..." He trailed off, watching as everyone had the same expression.

Terror. Confusion. Anger. Worry.

"That's why he was laughing." Scott said, putting the puzzle pieces together.

"When?" Derek asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I told him why we didn't bring him to pack night because we didn't want a fight, and we didn't want him to get turned...then he started to laugh."

"Because he was turned the night of the full moon. What the hell was that thing?" Liam even looked scared.

"I don't know. But, we're going to find out." He was determined. "Stiles is still a part of this pack. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He was _just_ turned. We all know how the wolf gets the better of us, especially once we get turned." Well, besides Derek. "Stiles is no different. He's still the same Stiles he always was. We can find him and get him to explain."

Everyone nodded in agreement, until a heavy silence had fallen.

"Damn, so now _I'm_ the only human in the pack?" Mason said, trying to light up the mood.

It wasn't the same.

0o0o0o

 **If you can't tell, there might be some Stiles/Lydia involvement soon. Not sure where that will go, but we'll see...**

 **also, sorry for any spelling mistakes.**

 **Next chapter will be added soon. 3**


	4. Training

**WARNINGS: There is some sexual content, but nothing too detailed.**

 **I know Malia did not kill her mother, but in this story she did. Just wanted to say that so no one gets confused.**

 **Also, I really hope no one else is confused. I know it's a lot of abilities, but thats kind of the whole point. Technically, it is supposed to be confusing sense Stiles doesn't even know whats going on. But yea, sorry.**

 **This chapter is short. I have show-offs today for my dance team, so I don't have much time. I will start writing today and tomorrow. I should post another chapter tomorrow. And I promise, the whole Ryan-battle thing will come soon, and so will some Stydia moments probably.**

 **So, does anyone trust Alvey? There is some moments where its like "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME." but yeah, otherwise I just want to know your opinions.**

 **And sorry, my chapters have started to suck more. I promise next chapter I will spell check. I started doing that to this chapter, but the spell-checker was being a douche. okay, I'm done with my rant.**

 **Oh, and i know I need to focus more on how Stiles is transitioning through this. I'm going to get to that, promise! now im done...**

0o0o0o

"So let me get this straight-" Derek started after Alvey explained Stile's situation. "Not only is Stiles - _our Stiles-_ not human, but he's one of the most powerful supernaturals in the world." Derek was all too familiar with Nephilims, and not in a good way. He had thought that he had killed the last surviving Nephilims, all which had ended up going rouge before he had to kill them. He could tell Alvey was different, and he only hoped that it wasn't all an act.

Alvey gave a shrug as if hearing this a thousand times, "I wouldn't say _most_ powerful. The more supernatural DNA we get, the more weakness we get. I don't even know all my weaknesses. It's all trial and error."

Oh. How wonderful.

Alvey just gave another heavy sigh. "Don't worry. Stiles should be back in your pack soon once this is all over."

"Isn't he, uh, in your pack?" Liam questioned, feeling slightly awkward. None of them could even picture Stiles in another pack. Then again, they couldn't even imagine Stiles having any sort of abilities until they saw it firsthand.

"Yes, but-" Alvey gave another sigh, not wanting to explain. "I'm dying. If Stiles and I cannot kill Ryan then Ryan will kill Stiles. If he finds about about all of you, he will kill all of you too."

"We can help." Malia said, Kira nodding right behind her.

"Malia-" Scott started, not wanting her to volunteer any of them. They _weren't_ murderers.

"Scott, I get that you are strongly against killing, but this is _Stiles_ we are talking about. If this Ryan guy doesn't die, then Stiles will die, and so will we." Malia tried getting through to him. She understood this situation all too well. It was the same thing with her mother. If she hadn't killed her, then her mom would have killed both her and Deaton, and who knows what else she would of done.

"We aren't killers." Scott told himself, not sure how any of the others didn't seem to understand. Once he had become a werewolf, it felt like killing was supposed to be _required_ in the supernatural world. He wasn't like that. There were better ways.

Right?

"Exactly." Alvey butted in. Scott looked at him in shock. "If Ryan remains alive, you're practically allowing him to kill your best friend."

Scott growled in anger. That wasn't fair.

"We can protect him!"

"And then after Ryan succeeds in killing both the pack and Stiles-" Alvey continued as if not hearing Scott. "then he will go on killing innocent humans."

There was a heavy silence until Scott huffed and said, "Fine."

"So, then what happens when Ryan is dead?" Liam questioned, glad they were finally getting to the point.

Alvey bit his lip. This was the part he didn't actually want to talk about. He didn't want to admit it to himself. After years of thinking he would never die - well, at least not easily - it didn't occur to him that he could end up living weeks or months _knowing_ that he will die. It took awhile to actually accept it.

"Once Ryan dies, I will die. From there, Stiles becomes an Alpha himself. He will choose whether to remain in your pack, or start one of his own."

The pack was silent, trying to take it in. They wanted what was best for Stiles, but they weren't sure if they were ready for whatever he wanted.

"Why do you die once Ryan dies?" Mason questioned sitting on the arm of the couch across from Alvey.

"Ryan and I are brothers. Technically, _soul_ brothers, or _soul clones_. There was this small group of people that practically wanted to break every supernatural law-"

"Dread doctors?" Lydia questioned. Alvey nodded, a little shocked that they knew. He didn't ask, but decided to just continue.

"Yeah. Dread doctors. They experimented on my mother when she was pregnant. Ryan was the original, and I was the clone. But before you ask - we don't actually look alike. Let alone, act alike. Basically, his soul was just seperated before birth, and we grew our own morals as we grew up. Around nine years old, the dread doctors took us in and did multiple experiements. At the time, Nephilims were extinct. The dread doctors pretty much brought a synthetic version back to life. Us. A couple others, If I remember correctly. But they went rouge."

"Yeah, I remember." Derek huffed. They just looked at him, as if ready for him to continue. He rolled his eyes, "They were killing a lot of people off in this one small town - Greenwood. When I found them, I pretty much had no choice but to kill them."

Alvey nodded, "If you hadn't, Ryan would have been a lot more powerful than he is now." He huffed, "Anyway. When I die, Ryan can still live. When Ryan dies, I die."

"That seems really unfair." Mason said, and Alvey agreed. So did everyone else in the room.

"That makes sense." Kira mummbled to herself.

"How do we find him?" Derek asked, getting to the point. "And where is Stiles right now? Shouldn't we be watching him, making sure he doesn't find him first?"

"Stiles needs a little more time getting used to his abilities. It can get pretty overwhelming with any moon, except a new moon. The last two days was nothing but hunger, but tonight he needs to shift or what happened today could become a lot more ugly." Alvey looked at Lydia who just looked at the hands in her lap.

"I thought he was just a fox-" Malia started, but stopped when Kira raised her eyebrows at her.

Alvey laughed a little too loud. "He will look like any normal fox. His pelt might be very off for this part of the country, but otherwise he will look normal. If he is in danger or starving from lack of blood, however, he will look more like...a giant beast."

Everyone seemed to have a chill run down their spine as they thought of the Beast of Gevaudan.

After a moment of silence, Malia spoke again.

"I can't believe he's-" She trailed off, unable to finish. It was all too weird.

"I always thought he'd stay a human, you know? He really reminded us how to be human in our worst moments." Liam smiled, even though he barely knew Stiles, he still had a great impact on him.

Alvey just cleared his throat and said, "Stiles is going to need supernatural blood tonight sense he is training his abilities."

"Shouldn't he be taking some time off from training? The last two days-" Lydia started, unsure for the sake of Stiles.

"He barely trained the last two days, and he can't wait any longer. He's a newborn Nephilim, which can become very dangerous the longer we wait. Plus, he needs to be prepared, especially when Ryan realizes that he even exist-"

"And how do we know he doesn't already know?" Scott questioned, feeling on edge about the whole situation.

"He's my clone. I know what he knows." Alvey smiled as if everyone knew that. He continued, "Once Ryan dies and I die, Stiles will be the only Nephilim in North America. I'm unsure about the rest of the world." He sighed, "I would like him to know as much as possible before I die from either Ryan's death, or old age sense he was able to extract my immortality DNA."

He could hear Derek groan, "Alright. How much blood you need?"

"Sense he's training tonight, it could help to get a pint of blood from each of you." Alvey looked at everyone in the room, "Wolves and Coyotes' healing abilities help when he is training to control his healing, necromancer, and reaper ability as well as help him regenerate after he loses too much energy. Kitsune blood is the closest to match his own blood sense he is also a werefox, and so it gives him a lot more energy, plus specifically helping his fox abilities. Human blood elivate his hunger, which decreases the chance of situations I'd rather avoid, and helps prevent an overdose of energy. Finally, banshee blood will stop him from killing someone else or hurting himself."

"How does my blood stop him from killing someone or hurting himself?" Lydia questioned.

"What happens during a energy overdose?" Scott added on.

"Banshee blood gives a feeling as if death is lurking and that it will specifically target them or someone they care for if they do not stop. Plus, banshee blood makes them think of people they care about. Sense Stiles knows you, he may also get visions from your blood, which makes him stop quickly. And about the energy overdose-" He bit his lip, "He would be in extreme pain that he won't be able to transfer to anyone else, and that no one would be able to heal. He would lose his appetite and refuse to drink any blood, which will eventually make him die of starvation."

"Oh, just wonderful." Mason said sarcastically as Alvey began to pull out the materials ready to take their blood.

"So, who's first?"

0o0o0o

"Do it again." Alvey said, stepping back from the tree that had a line of glass cups on the thick branch lowest to the ground.

Stiles glanced at Lydia, beeds of sweat dancing on his forehead. Lydia just nodded, understanding his pain.

Stiles took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

He could do this. He had to. For his friends. For his family. For his pack - both current and former. For his alpha. To kill Ryan.

For the sake of Beacon Hills, he needed to do this.

He opened his eyes, feeling a warmth of glowing blue cover them as he let out a bloodcurdling scream, his hands raised to direct the deadly sound waves.

He had heard the glass shattering, and even see the pieces flying. Hell, he even saw the branch they sat on just _collapse,_ but that was the last he saw before being flown backwards. His back had hit the ground with a crack, and he found himself starring at the glowing moon and the shinning stars hiding behind leaves that danced through the wind as they sat on their trees.

He saw a hand appear in front of him, pulling him away from his detailed thoughts on nature. Seriously, his ADHD symptoms had gotten a lot worse since being turned. He starred back at Lydia's pale and shakey hand.

It must have been hard to witness, sense now that he could move his head he saw that he had flown fifteen feet away.

He just groaned, and tried to move his arm. He grimaced, realizing that he was temporarily paralyzed, and he felt _really_ weak.

He saw Alvey appear in front of him and turn his head back. "Give me some blood-"

"What kind?" He heard someone say. He was pretty sure it was Scott.

"Wolf." Alvey said, looking back at Stiles. He smiled with pride, "That was good. Next time, maybe try those wings of yours?"

" _Wings?"_

What the hell. Did Alvey forget to tell him?

Alvey just laughed, "Part angel, Stiles."

"Oh." Was all Stiles could manage to say before the bag of Wolf's blood was practically stuffed to his face. He felt his eyes turn yellow and his teeth sharpen as he bit into it. He didn't feel like he was hungry until he smelled the sweet blood.

Once the bag was empty, Stiles could feel his spine snapping back into place. He sat up, and Alvey helped him up, giving him a nice pat on the back.

"You learn fast." He complimented, and Stiles smiled at him, feeling like he could do anything now.

"Now, you need to tell me about these wings you claim I have." Stiles said, hopping tonight he would let him.

"One step at a time, Stiles. Tomorrow I think you will be able to master your scream, but now we need to change tasks."

Stiles was a little too distracted now. What did 'the scream' even come from? He didn't think he could predict death?

"It's a reaper scream. Reapers kill in many ways. You can kill through...well, almost any way possible. Screams can kill their targets only if they are right in front of them. A song can kill them while they are on the other side of the world, but don't always work. Hell, you can even do a reaper-ritual where you make a "bet""

"Like what kind of bet?" Stiles was curious now. He just hoped it wasn't something bad.

Then again, he wasn't really planning on using reaper abilities. He felt bad enough after killing Donovan.

"Like saying 'If I win the lacrosse game, then so and so will die. If I don't, then they live."

"That seems kind of fucked up." Mason blurted out. Alvey shrugged and started pulling chains out of his duffel back. _Long_ , heavy, metal chains.

"I don't think we hit that point in our relationship, bro." Stiles joked, taking a step back. Alvey just rolled his eyes.

"You don't even realize how dangerous you are, do you?"

The way that he said it was like a shot to the heart. It was like saying he was guilty, or _evil._

"I said dangerous, not evil. Now-" Alvey stepped forward, "Put these on, and take your clothes off."

"Why do I need to take my clothes off!?" Stiles said a little too loudly. Malia and Lydia snickered, trying to hold back their laughter. Kira couldn't keep it to herself.

Stiles looked at them then groaned, "I mean, do I have to?"

Alvey nodded, and Stiles could see Scott even holding back a laugh. Hell, even _Derek!_

"This isn't funny." Stiles said as he started taking his shoes off.

The weirdest things happened as Stiles begain slowly and hesitantly unbuttoning his shirt. There was this feeling that he somehow _knew_ it wasn't his. Lust and attraction.

He looked towards where the feelings were coming off. He could feel it off of Malia, but it was practically radiating off of...

Lydia.

Stiles smiled at her, hoping Malia didn't notice. The attraction-like feeling came even stronger, and it made Stiles feel a lot more energized, and not the hyper kind of energy, but _supernatural_ energy.

He took his shirt off, and it just grew stronger. He started on unbuttoning his pants and could see that his bulge was a lot bigger, but not bonor-size bigger. He felt like he should be embarrassed with Scott, Derek and Liam there, but all he could feel was Lydia and Malia just _starring_ down at him. Did anyone else seem to notice?

He had his hands on the edges of his briefs, as if ready to just strip fully nude, but he just wanted to tease them. The attaction towards him was like strong waves in a middle of a hurricane.

"You can leave those on." Alvey smiled at him, _Don't tease them too much, Stiles._

Stiles' goofy, teasy smile faded when he heard Alvey's voice in his head.

Alvey just gave a yellow flash in his eyes as the only response as he started to chain his wrist and ankles and wrapped the chains around his body, then attached them to metal rods in the ground as well as most of the trees around them. Seriously, the chains he had were _very_ long.

Alvey had stepped back, keeping a safe distance. Stiles suddenly wasn't sure of this.

"Ready?"

"Not really." Stiles admitted. Alvey just smiled in response as he dug something else out of his duffel bag. Stiles couldn't see what it was, but he was dying to know what the hell Alvey was up to now.

Alvey began pouring a brown powder, circling Stiles as if it was wolvesbane.

"What is that?" Stiles asked, afraid of the answer. He didn't remember Alvey saying they had a weakness to anything materialistic.

Wait, how come _Alvey_ was able to touch it?

"Wh-what the- how are you able to touch it? What is that even for?" Stiles asked again before letting Alvey answer.

"It's Adenium, otherwise known as Desert Rose. It acts like Wolvesbane for werewolves and coyotes. Wolvesbane doesn't do anything to you, but Desert Rose does."

"Why can _you_ touch it, then?" Stiles jerked through the chains. He really didn't like forcing to sit still.

"You developed more abilities than me when I turned you. There was some abilities that I was supposed to have, but never showed. They were just hidden. It passed on to you instead."

"Which ability is that?"

Alvey shrugged, finishing the circle. "Not all werefoxes can turn into an even bigger creature. I can't do that."

"Then how do you know what abilities I have when I haven't even used them yet?" Now Stiles was really confused, and he can tell the rest of the pack was too as they watched this.

"I can see _every_ ability you have. I am your Alpha. It's how Nephilim Alphas work." Alvey just smirked and stepped away. He dug out the rest of the blood supply and set them down _outside_ of the circle. He closed his bag and pulled it over his shoulder. He started walking off.

"Where are you going?" Stiles growled, not meaning to. He wasn't sure if he was angry or not, but his emotions were still a little out of whack from everyone _else's_ emotions.

"You want to eat? Get out. You can come back to the house when you're done."

"And If I don't?" Stiles asked, louder this time. The rest of the pack just started to follow, giving him a sympathetic unsure smile.

"Then you'll starve." Alvey said, before fading out of sight.

0o0o0o

 **Please tell me how you liked it!**


	5. Sacrifice

Stiles understood why Alvey and everyone else had left him here, chained up, naked, and in a circle of Desert Rose with sweet blood taunting him on the outside. Really, he did, but that didn't stop the anger boiling inside him. He was hungry. No, scratch that. He was _starving,_ and Alvey had used his friend's blood to make him even angrier and hungrier.

Stiles knew Alvey wanted him to escape this trap. But, what happens when he does escape? What if he is still hungry even after drinking all of his friend's blood? Had he even thought about that? What if he runs off and ends up killing innocent people?

Did Alvey even care if he killed innocent people? He even admitted he had used him to take down Ryan.

Was Alvey even telling him the truth, or was he just playing mind games with him? Why the hell did he have to turn him? He was a danger to his friends and family now because of him.

Why did he even have so much trust in him? Was it because Alvey was his Alpha now? Stiles knew this wasn't right, or normal on any level. If he was still human and someone had told him about this, he would laugh and say that was impossible.

He always thought he would never leave Scott's pack, especially if he was turned, and espeically to be in another pack.

Sure, Alvey being his Alpha is only a temporary thing, but still. Why was he so OK with it? Why was he even considering the idea of creating a pack of his own as a new alpha? Why the hell was he perfectly fine not being with Scott? His best friend.

And why the hell would he even say yes to killing Ryan, who he actually has no evidence to prove that Ryan is even bad. Or exists. For all he knows, Alvey could be making this up, just for him to say he would be in his pack until Ryan is dead. But, if Ryan doesn't exist, he'll always be in Alvey's pack.

Why was Stiles being so stupid? He had always trusted facts. Textual evidence, and yet, here he is, stuck in all this mess because he let himself trust this guy.

The guy who chained him in the middle of the woods naked with Desert Rose surrounding him. The guy who his old pack was now even trusting to train him. The guy that could have even lurred him into a trap to get killed by hunters. For fuck sake, he's _rare._ He's a fucking Nephilim.

Then again, was Alvey lying about that too? If he was lying at all, of course. But still, why did he trust this guy?

And why would he chain him up in the middle of the woods _knowing_ that hunters live in Beacon Hills when he is a rare supernatural species and of course, Hunters wouldn't stop chasing him if they found out what he was. Hell, the more he thought about Alvey and everything he did, the more it all made sense.

Alvey was a liar. Alvey, his _Alpha_ , was lying to him, and chained him here to be killed by groups of hunters.

Fuck, and now Alvey is with his pack. His old pack, doing god knows what.

Stiles jerked his body, trying to somehow get the chains loose with his newfound supernatural strength, but nothing was working. He growled, not expecting it to be a -well, _acutal_ animalistic growl, and continued to try to tug it.

Nothing was working.

Stiles was beyond pissed now.

Pissed that he trusted Alvey. Pissed that he let the guy chain him up in the woods. It's _Beacon freaking Hills, dude._

Pissed that he didn't let Peter turn him sooner. Or Scott, for that matter. Pissed that he got dragged in all of this supernatural crap. Pissed that his mind was weak and he had let the Nogitsune in and kill the people he loved.

He jerked his body again, but now he was feeling a burning sensation on his ankles, wrist, and everywhere the chain had touched his skin as it wrapped around his bare chest. He could see the once silver chains turning into a burning hot orange-yellow color. His body was on fire.

Literally. The heat radiated off his supernatural body and burned the chains, and the chains burned his skin back. Hell, it even caught his freaking breifs on fire.

Now, he was _really_ naked, chained up by burning chains in the middle of beacon freaking hills woods with Desert Rose circled around him.

God, could he be more stupid?

The pain was growing unbearable now. Stiles had let tears stream down his cheeks, but they only acted like gasoline as they burned his skin even more.

He wondered if Parrish felt everything. He knew he was supernaturally resistant to fire, but did he really feel this much pain? Stiles could smell burnt flesh now, and now the blood of his friends were even stronger, and hell, he could even smell his own blood. (Which didn't smell good).

God, he was so hungry. And so, so, so, very angry.

He needed to get to his friends. He needed to know what Alvey was really up to.

He let out roar that sounded like a agonizing human scream and a animalistic viscious growl until his throat was raw. He tugged at the chains once more and fell on his hands and knees in the mud, breathing heavily through the pain.

"Stiles." The soft yet threatening voice had made him jerk his head up. He nearly fell backwards as he caught sight of where the voice was coming from.

It was Allison. Her face and lips were pale. Her eyes are crimson red, even the whites of her eyes were red. Blood was seeping out of her eye sockets as if she was crying, and her clothes were soaking in more red.

He gulped. "Al-Allison.." His voice was unrecognizable, but he still tried. He had to try. He had to tell her sorry.

She tilted her head to the side like a little girl in a horror movie and said, "You killed me."

Stiles tried to fight the tears, hoping they wouldn't burn anymore, but he couldn't. They started to rush down his cheeks and mix in with the dirt and blood underneath him as he tried to speak. "I'm s-so sorry, Al-Alli-son."

Allison didn't make a move at first, but then she moved her head back to the normal upright position and just opened her mouth as she let out a horrible, high-pitched scream. Before Stiles could do anything, he felt his body fly backwards and hit the Desert Rose invisible barrier hard. He thought he even heard his back cracking.

He could hear ringing in his ears for a moment, then felt the blood trickle down.

"So-Sorry." Stiles cried harder as Allison took a step forward and placed a hand on the invisible barrier.

She looked at the barrier at first, looking confused as to why she couldn't get through, then focused her attention back on him, leaving a bloody handprint, looking as if it was floating in mid-air.

"Claudia saw the killer inside you before she died too."

"T-Too?"

Allison didn't speak, instead, more blood-like tears escaped.

"You're a killer, Stiles. Killers burn in hell." With that, she disappeared into the darkness, leaving Stiles leaning against the barrier naked, bloody, dirty, and nearly having a panic attack.

He had slowly started to stand up, feeling pain everywhere inside his body. He felt this itch as if he needed to shift, but it soon went away.

He even felt the hunger in the pit of his stomach, but even that went away.

Because Allison just told him he was a killer, and Stiles couldn't disagree.

Stiles had leaned all his weight on the invisible barrier, screaming as more pain had entered his body, but soon a gush of cold wind hit him, and the barrier of Desert Rose was gone.

The smell of blood was a lot stronger now, but the hunger was gone. Stiles had looked around him, finding his clothes and quickly putting them on. He found a bag Alvey had left and shoved all the bags of blood in there. He may have not been hungry, but he knew he would need it later.

Finally, Stiles ran as fast as he could to his place.

He needed to know what Alvey was really up to. He needed to know the pack was OK, and most of all.

He needed fucking sleep. He was exhausted from all the screaming and crying and pain. He just wanted to check if everyone is OK, go to bed, then deal with Alvey's dickhead of an Alpha in the morning.

0o0o0o

Before Stiles even made his way up to his front door, he could hear the pacing of Scott. Alvey was there, and so was Derek, Lydia, Kira, Malia, Parrish, Melissa and his dad. He wondered how telling his dad and Scott's mom about his little...change went, but he was too tired to deal with any of it.

He opened the door, all conversations stopped. Everyone was looking at him in horror, probably because he still had burns on his face and blood on his clothes. Stiles didn't respond, however, and just threw the duffel bag full of blood on the ground and started up the stairs, without even a word.

"Stiles?" His dad started, but Stiles didn't answer.

"Is he mad?" He could hear Scott ask.

 _Of corse I'm mad, Scotty._ Stiles wanted to scream, but instead just collapsed into his bed, starring up at the ceiling as he listened to everyone start talking again.

"He didn't drink anything." Lydia stated, and everyone was silent again.

"That's not good." Alvey said.

 _Not good? Not good that he resisted the urge to drink the blood of his friends because what, you wanted me to be a killer?_

"Why?" Melissa questioned.

"Because, if he doesn't feed, he can be in extreme pain, which will most likely get him to be extremely dangerous." Alvey paused for a moment. "He must have gotten a visitor. It would explain why he had lost the appetite."

"What do you mean, gotten a visitor?" Parrish questioned, and Stiles could tell Lydia sat next to Parrish. Probably a little _too close._ Stiles couldn't help but feel more anger rush through him.

"He is able to see spirits. But when he first sees them, it won't be...really them especially if he is feeling guilty over their deaths. After he gets over the guilt, he would be able to see the real spirit."

Everyone was quiet again, trying to understand what Alvey just said.

"That...makes sense." Scott said, and Stiles huffed in frustration.

It was almost like Alvey _expected_ this to happen.

"I was afraid this would happen." Alvey started.

 _Yeah right._

There was more silence, and the longer the silence, the more anger Stiles felt. He didn't want to heart Alvey's voice anymore. He didn't understand why he had to turn him into this..this... _Monster._ He was pissed.

He didnt' want him in his damn house anymore, or even talking to his damn friends, his _pack_ that technically he was no longer a part of.

With anger still rushing through his veins, Stiles stood up quickly and started heading down the stairs.

"Hey, Sti-" Someone started to speak, but before anyone could react, Stiles grabbed Alvey by the collar of his shirt and pinned him to the wall.

"Stiles! What are you doing?" Malia practically yelled, but Stiles didn't care anymore. He could feel the warmth cover his eyes and his fangs elongate.

" _Why_ did you do this to me? huh? _Why did you turn me into a monster."_

"You know why, Stiles. I needed your hel-"

"Help my ass!" Stiles growled, pissed that he seemed so damn calm. "I don't even know you. I don't even know who this Ryan guy is. I don't even know if you are telling the _truth._ Why should I trust you?"

"Why did you trust me?" He asked, as if he was taunting him. Stiles growled again, showing him his long fangs and feeling his eyes glow even more as he picked Alvey up and shoved him into the wall with even more force. Stiles could see pain cross his face for a moment, but focused back on Stiles.

"Stiles-" Someone said again, but he wasn't done. He was too angry to be done.

"I'm starting to think this was all just a trap." Stiles growled, "You have mind control, right? Tell me you didn't use it on me to get me to say yes to killing Ryan. Because the more I think about it, the more I see that if I _wasn't_ under your little mind-control, I would have _never_ agreed to _murdering_ someone, especially when I don't even have _proof_ that they did what you claimed."

Alvey just smiled, "You're smarter than I thought."

Stiles growled again, throwing Alvey to the ground. He knew that he was probably letting him push him around. Alvey was probably a lot stronger than he was. He probably wasn't even dying.

"Where you lying about dying too?"

"Who said I was ever lying?"

"Stiles!" Melissa yelled his name, but he didn't care. He got on top of Alvey and punched him _hard._

"Tell me the truth!"

Alvey just laughed again, and Stiles punched him even harder.

"Alright, Alright." Alvey said, raising his hands in front of his face to get him to stop.

"I was telling the truth. But not the whole truth."

"Then _tell me._ " Stiles let another animalistic growl, still pinning Alvey to the floor.

"We are rare creatures. Do you know how much we are worth?"

Stiles didn't answer. He didn't know if he wanted to.

" .Dollars, Stiles. _Billion._ Before turning you, I was literally the only Nephilim that existed. But, if I turned someone else _and_ told them where you were, I could be free. They would stop trying to kill me, because sense Ryan extracted a lot of certain abilities of mine, I would die soon anyway _and_ I could only turn one person." Alvey started to laugh, "Three billion, Stiles. That's how much you are worth. And don't even get me started how much you are worth _dead_."

Stiles growled again, raising his clawed hands to rip his throat out, but Alvey just _disappeared_ right under him.

"Stiles." Lydia said, but Stiles was still filled with so much anger that he couldn't even look away from the spot where Alvey once was.

"Stiles." Lydia said again, and Stiles stood up, still breathing heavily.

"How did you know Alvey was lying? _We_ didn't even know he was lying." Scott questioned, and Stiles still stared at Lydia's concerned face.

He looked at Scott, hoping to avoid his dad's eye contact as he thought about how to say how he knew, but Scott just spoke again.

"And what happened? You're face..."

Stiles let out another growl, "Getting caught on fire does that to you." His voice dripped in sarcasm, and he could see Parrish make this face like _I understand._

"You got- _what?"_ His dad spoke, but Stiles ignored him.

"And yes, Alvey was right. I saw...Allison." Stiles could barely say her name. He wondered if the whole "not really seeing her" thing was real. He wondered if Allison actually felt that way.

"Wh-what did-" Scott started, but he couldn't manage to finish. Stiles was okay with that, because he wouldn't have been able to answer.

There was a heavy silence. The only thing that could be heard was everyone's heartbeats as they tried to calm down, and the heavy breathing from Stiles.

"I'm going to bed." Stiles said, ignoring everyone's expressions of worry, as he climbed up the stairs and hurried into the bathroom. Hopefully a shower will drown out everyone's voice. He just wanted to ignore the fact that now he was probably being hunted down because he's a stupid rare creature.

Just great.

0o0o0o

 **So, by the way, there is some characters that just haven't shown up. Not that I don't like them (Because I do), I just haven't wrote with them in it. So, sorry about that! xoxo**

 **Also, haven't wrote much. Getting writers block a little. So, feel free to review or PM me any suggestions to the story. Doesn't mean I will take the suggestions, but I might. (or, I could even write a whole different story based on your suggestion).**

 **Or you know, something will just come to me eventually.**

 **Anyway, I probably should stop procrastinating. I had to do homework AND clean my room, and all ive done so far is...nothing. at all.**

 **So, yeah. I will try to update soon. Please review, or pm any suggestions.**


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